We are a literate, intermediate to advanced AU Transformers RPG Based off of the first season of TFP with dashes of other incarnations sprinkled here or there. Characters from any continuity are welcome however must be restyled to match the TFPrime universe.
Active, with ongoing plotlines, we are always willing to integrate new characters into storylines once incorporated into the setting.
He heard faint voices, but not enough, even with the wind, to tell what they were saying. Humans were strangely loud, even when they were quiet; his hearing was much stronger than that of the little, squishy creatures. They had no idea of the sounds Cybertronians could pick up. Either they were really, really quiet humans, or there were 'bots like him running around.
The pattering through the bush was oddly familiar. It was like something on four legs, but he couldn't be sure, and he shrank behind the boulder more. He leaned down a little, twitching at the slight hurt in his leg. The Autobrander jet had left a scar on the big mech — a circle of silvery metal had formed over his kneecap. Out from it, ragged lines like lightning spread, and a jag had gone down his lower leg from the wound. One hand gently rubbed it, the wasteworker turning his helm towards the sound of the strange footsteps.
Jus' keep walkin'...jus' keep walkin'....
They were definitely familiar when the sounds got closer. B-Dump's field pulled as tight and close as he could get it, so that no one could pick up on stray feelings coming off of it. Being a long-waver meant his field could be someone else's — when he was up and happy, it could fill an entire room. Not very good for sneaking around, it was, and he had to learn to tone it down for times like these.
Mirage had not missed Tailgate’s observation - quite the contrary. As a tenured scout, he had made a career out of having a keen eye for detail. That out of place glint of metal in the middle of the vast wilderness might have gone unnoticed, had he not been paying attention to the world around him, but as it was Mirage was very much in the habit of keeping tabs on his surroundings whilst in unfamiliar territory.
Bad things tended to happen to spies who decided to wander out into the open without wondering what might be lurking just out of sight.
That said, Mirage was glad to see that Tailgate likewise had his optics peeled for signs of anything concerning or out of the ordinary. That, or he had just so happened to glance over in the right direction at the right time, but Mirage preferred to think better of the little mech until he gave him reason to think otherwise. As it stood, the minibot was...naive, to put things mildly, but for the most part he seemed to be an alright sort. Only time would tell, however, if Mirage’s surface analysis of the mech proved to be accurate.
Before he had the opportunity to suggest the other two stay back while he investigated their possible false-alarm, Carbine beat him to the punch. With a swift shift of plating his shoulder armor pulled back, and with a hydraulic hiss the former officer’s cassette was released from his docking station. The dog looked clearly happy to be out and about, and though he wasn’t about to say so out loud, Mirage was rather happy to see him as well.
Carbine’s hand moved to grasp the dog’s harness before he could even think to run off, before dropping to one knee to give his cassette a wordless command with little more than a gesture and a thought. That was all that was needed to send Bolo off at a leisurely pace, more than happy to perform the task asked of him.
Mirage watched, amused, before casting Carbine a sideways glance.
“How convenient.” He said, mildly. “Not unlike having a travel-sized Red Alert at one’s disposal.”
Bolo was also far more enjoyable company, but Mirage did not say that part out loud. It would have been both unnecessary and mean-spirited to make such a joke at the security director's expense.
No one said anything about a dog. Or, canine like cassette. It was a rather pleasant surprise. Tailgate didn't take Carbine as the sort of bot to be a carrier, with his rather abrasive personality. Then again, Carbine might actually be a rather kind bot...just not to Tailgate. Figures. Oh well, there's a first for everything. It would seem that Carbine is Tailgate's first encounter with a sarcastic snark-bot.
Pushing off topic thoughts out of his processor, Tailgate returned focus to the cassette as it leisurely trotted off to inspect the anomaly. The Minibot felt a tad bad for the creature. Should the anomaly turn out to be a mine or booby trap or something equally dangerous, the poor thing would be blown to bits! Were all cassettes considered so expendable? Or did Carbine have confidence in his cassette's ability to avoid danger? Tailgate's spark twinged at the thought that maybe...maybe his compatriots saw him as expendable? He is just a standard (and rather weakly outfitted) Minibot after all. Though they didn't know, he had little to no experience....in anything. Tailgate was probably only included in this mission because they thought he had some worth in being a supposed bomb expert. Had they known he had barely been alive before his temporal accident, they would have carted his aft off to the neutral base to be babysat.
The only thing keeping his spirit up on this mission was his commitment to do things right and get some respect. If he could just prove he's capable then the Autobot's wouldn't see him as a waste of energon. At least spotting this metallic anomaly was a start. Tailgate wished it actually turned out to be something of worth and not a waste of everyone's time...
Last Edit: Jun 28, 2015 21:59:43 GMT -5 by Deleted
Carbine said with a thumb in Tailgate's direction, the bottom edge of his optics pulled up into a smirking look. He found great humor in what he had said, as it really could have been applied to Bolo because of his heightened senses, or to Tailgate who spotted the anomaly to begin with. ((Which was a kudo point but Carbine wouldn't admit that)).
He may be an ass and then some when it came to his interactions with others, a bit jaded and uncaring due to what happened to him in Garrus, but when it came to cassettes? That was an entire other story. Carbine cared deeply for Bolo, as Bolo was not only a friend and companion, but literally a part of his very self. He was as much of him as his own forearm or a leg, and if anything happened to him he could feel the others pain on an emotional level. Carbine would not be able to live with himself if something bad happened to the dog that would lead to his termination.
This said, that didn’t mean he didn’t send Bolo out into danger occasionally.
He trusted the canine to be smart enough to not... tread all over a bomb or trap, and if something did go wrong? He could run over there in short time under the boost of stress for his comrades well being. The cassette was a sturdy little guy that had taken much abuse already. He could survive quite a bit, and has done so in the past. He would be fine.
Bolo continued to trot on over with a pleasant gait and natural curiosity. He had his helm raised, sniffing the air, trying to get the scent of whatever it was beforehand just in case it was indeed something to be wary of. That said, the wind was just right or the foliage blotted it out just enough for him to not get a proper read on it until he was right up upon it. With a few leisurely trots, he had moved around the rock, peeking his head about the stony surface in order to put a visual image with the recognizable scent he had obtained.
The canine had looked so curious and almost cute in a way, bounding forward, creeping around the rock with innocent glee at having been given a job. His ears had been perked upright, and stance casual and relaxed. All of this was instantly gone when he saw who it was, and remembered just what had happened. His last command associated with this Con, was one of attack, and because of that Bolo instantly flew off into a rage.
His maw opened and snapped closed again and again paired with angry hostile barks and savage growls that rattled out of his throat. It didn’t take long for Energon to start boiling and frothing from his mouth, a clear sign of how badly he wanted to get hold of this threat and tear into him. The noise was horrendous and aggressive, his ears pinning back and stance going wide and powerful. He didn’t lunge, not yet, but he was ready to do so when given the command.
Carbine has been stretching a bit when the shift in mood came. His arms were pulled up and back, flexing out the cables connecting the joints down, before he visibly lurched as if something had shocked him, his eyes widening. The rotors on his back even flicked out some, the plates of metal rattling as they settled into the new angle. These actions occurred just a fraction of a second before the distant sound of barking and snarls started to ring out, and Carbine's entire posture shifted just as his dog's did.
"Oh he̷l͜l̨ no..."
He growled, fingers curling into a fist as he started to walk forward, his shoulders hunched and head held low. Carbine's stride was purposeful, intent, making a direct beeline towards the rocks when a second transformation sequence rang out. This one was a series of clunks and clanks, as his riot armor engaged. The plates of metal folded up across key joints in order to protect his inner arms, abdomen, neck, and hips, as well as flaring a bit at the shoulders. It made attacks from the front more difficult to land somewhere 'squishy' and made him a variable metal wall. If the others wanted to follow, that'd be fine, but he wasn't going to wait for them.
"I am going to rip h̵is a͘r͘m͢s̡ o͞ff͘.̡.."
He growled during his approach, not really being too helpful in telling the others just WHAT was going on, as Bolo's savage noises echoed across the surroundings.
He wasn't sure how to react to the sight of the dog.
The scuffling in the bushes sounded like it was made by four feet, not two. A blackish figure rounded the corner, flashing with biolights, and the mech cocked his head. B-Dump wondered, for a brief second, if it was some sort of animal — and then he remembered the 'copter-bot. The 'copter bot and his cassette-hound, and his friend, the thought of him enough to make B-Dump's leg hurt again. The lightning-burst scar on his knee wasn't going to heal over, it now an ugly mound of raised, boiled protoform and plating that sometimes made his entire leg ache. The garbage mech had a high pain tolerance, and for it to hurt that bad?
He was tempted to punch the mechanimal, at first. Then, a static-filled scream bounced around his head, and he was back on Cybertron with a body in his hands. There was no silence there, only gunfire and the crying of a carrier, doubled over and sobbing as the pain of his symbiote ebbed away from him. The mech snapped back to reality with an ex-vent, snorting like a bull and nearly stumbling forward, only to pin his back against a wall of stone.
He wasn't going to do it. He wasn't going to hurt the dog-bot, no matter how angry he had been last time. Raising his hands, the big mech calmed his tense, quavering field, sending gentle waves of calm and not-a-threat and I-won't-hurt-you to the cassette. He gave a grim look, wondering if the creature's master was still alive, and got his answer in the form of angry stomping. The waste-worker narrowed his eyes in the foosteps' direction, but said nothing.
That is, until the dog's master arrived. Keeping his field still and neutral, he looked the 'copter-bot in the eye and said, "So. You're still alive."
He fidgeted in place. "I'm not gonna touch him. I want no trouble. I ain't gonna hurt yer boy. There ain't no point."
Carbine’s shift in posture was telling. Even before Bolo began to bark and growl in warning, Mirage knew something had to be wrong, solely because of the way the ex-enforcer suddenly snapped to attention and went rigid.
Before he could ask what was the matter, Carbine was already storming off, muttering angrily to himself as he followed after his cassette like a mech on a mission - a bloody one. Mirage cast a brief, worried glance at Tailgate before swiftly jogging forward to catch up with the other mech, before he had the chance to get too far ahead.
He did not beckon for Tailgate to follow, nor did he order him to stay put. He trusted the minibot would use his own judgement and have enough discretion to know whether or not it would be wise to follow.
Within a few quick steps he was at Carbine’s back, then his side. He spared him a look, before turning his attention on what lied ahead of them, hoping to catch a glimpse of who or what was disturbing Bolo so greatly.
“Who is it you're intending to maim?” He asked, without looking at the other mech. His optics were peeled on the area before them, looking for anyone or thing which might give him good reason to take his rifle in his hands.
His question was answered mere moments later, when the hulking Decepticon came into view.
He didn’t appear hostile, at least at first glance, and he didn’t seem to be looking for a violent confrontation. Even so, Mirage readied himself, preparing to the blades holstered within his arms to use at a moment’s notice.
“Well.” He began dryly, glancing between the Decepticon and his clearly enraged companion. “This is unfortunate.”